


Complicated

by Str4y



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Bottom Han Jisung | Han, Bottom Lee Minho | Lee Know, But today is not the day, Cheating, Consensual Sex, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M, One day I’ll write Minho not getting hurt, Rough Sex, Seizures, Smut, Top Bang Chan, Unsafe Sex, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26823547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Str4y/pseuds/Str4y
Summary: Chan and Minho had been traveling together for four years since the apocalypse began. Four years of avoiding groups of people and struggling, and Chan was tired of struggling. Chan wanted safety. He wanted a place to call home.But things with Minho were just so complicated...
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung | Han, Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Seo Changbin
Comments: 45
Kudos: 203





	Complicated

**Author's Note:**

> hello I don’t actually know what happened here. I wanted to write something sad because I was feeling sad and this is what transpired! I really enjoyed it and it gave me the same good vibes that nails did when I wrote it, so i guess I’m proud of this one? I hope whoever reads enjoys! 
> 
> Read the tags if you don’t want to be blindsided by things! There’s also a single car accident in this fic so if that’s triggering at all don’t read!

Chan took a deep breath, the scent of bark and must filling his nostrils. Usually he hated these scents, but he’d grown to tolerate them. They weren’t honestly that distinguishable anymore anyways. Everything smelled like this now. 

  
  


Another inhale and Chan was sitting himself upright, running a hand down the back of the man who was curled underneath the dirty orange blanket. He’d have to get a new one soon, the amount of tears and stains this blanket was adorned in was nearly too much. But he could find another easy. A trip into the city and they’d have loads of comfort items.

  
  


They’d find temporary shelter that wasn’t the back of Chan’s father's old van. 

  
  


The man in the blanket stirred, brows knitting as he clutched his side and offered a soft whine. 

  
  


Worried, Chan pulled the orange blanket back, his expression faltering from calm to unease as he pulled the man's shirt up slightly. The deep wound at his side must’ve broken open sometime while they slept. 

  
  


“Alright, Min... I need you to get up so I can change these.” Chan patted the man's hair, another painful whine escaping his lips as Chan pulled at the soaking bandage. 

  
  


“Ow...” he whimpered as Chan removed the bandage, tossing it across the back of the van into the pile of used bandages they needed to really dispose of, “be careful!”

  
  


“Baby, I’m being as careful as I can be,” Chan studied the man's gash before running his hand through his hair, “Minho be patient with me.”

  
  


Minho had gotten himself injured days ago. An altercation with one of those monsters in the woods had Chan’s knife accidentally colliding with his side. Chan was trying to protect Minho, not hurt him. But everything happened so fast. 

  
  


“Chan...” Minho gripped Chan’s arm tight as Chan reached over to the nearly emptied bottle of alcohol, “it hurts...”

  
  


“I know, I know.” Chan took a deep breath as he unscrewed the cap, tears already filling the younger man's eyes, “just hold tight. We’re almost there.”

  
  


Chan braced himself for Minho’s nails as Minho took a rag to his own mouth. 

  
  


They needed to reach the city. 

  
  


Minho’s nails dug deep into his coat, filtered scream leaving his throat against the rag as Chan ran the alcohol down the gash, running his fingers along the wound as gently as possible. 

  
  


It would get easier. It had to. 

  
  


Several bandages later and Chan was helping pull Minho upright, hooking his arms around Minho’s back as the younger man slumped against him. Chan brought a hand to pet through his hair. 

  
  


“It’ll get better. We’re going to get you some painkillers and a nice bed. I swear.”

  
  


Minho nodded in response, curling into Chan with a pained huff. 

  
  


Chan knew they wouldn’t have long before his wound got infected. There was only so much he could do with the medical kit they’d found in Chan’s dad's van. They needed more bandages, and painkillers. They needed clean water. 

  
  


The world had gone to shit years ago. Nobody really saw the extent but everyone figured with the way shit was going it was inevitable. 

  
  


Chan didn’t think that the world would betray him on his graduation day. Graduation was supposed to be this amazing event where all his hard work would pay off. He was going to fulfill his dreams. 

  
  


But that didn’t happen. 

  
  


“Chan, it really hurts.” Minho clutched his side, sweat pounding down his temple as Chan slipped his book bag onto his shoulders. 

  
  


Chan crawled to Minho, peeling back the bandage one more time before taping it the best he could, pulling Minho’s jacket on before pushing open the van doors. 

  
  


They didn’t have much time. 

  
  


“Put your arms around my neck.” Chan beckoned for Minho to follow before scooping the man into his arms. Thank god for working out. Minho wasn’t light at all. 

  
  


Minho pressed his face into Chan’s shoulder as Chan pulled him into his arms, closing the door and grabbing Minho’s bag. 

  
  


They’d run out of gas two days ago. Luckily Chan had managed to get them as close to the city as possible. They’d find supplies. Or they’d die trying. At this point Chan didn’t have much choice anyways. He’d rather die trying to save Minho than live without him. 

  
  


Chan kept his eyes peeled as he walked along the bridge. They’d run out of gas really close to the city, which was good. Chan wouldn’t have to walk too far before he reached some sort of shop. 

  
  


Contrary to popular belief, cities were safer than farmlands. Apparently most cities evacuated before the infection started. Granted there were definitely people who had hidden or refused to leave, but based on the lack of sound and busted windows... Chan figured this area was probably safer than not. 

  
  


“You’re so heavy, Min,” Chan teased as he kept his eyes on the surroundings, buildings mostly tall and seemingly untouched. 

  
  


“I can walk, Chan,” Minho retorted while making no effort to release Chan. 

  
  


“I’m sure you can.” Chan scanned the alleys as he walked down the sidewalk, senses on the lookout for any sign or life—or undead. 

  
  


“Are you sure this is safe?” Minho’s voice was hoarse. 

  
  


Chan nodded, holding Minho close, “that’s what the radio said.”

  
  


“You’re too trusting, Chan.”

  
  


“And you’re too cautious,” Chan responded, pressing a sole kiss to Minho’s hair as he heard tapping to the right of them. 

  
  


Tapping was a good sound. Especially by the rhythm. The dead couldn’t make that sort of sound. 

  
  


Chan approached the shop, peering into the foggy window before reaching for the door handle. 

  
  


The tapping went off again, a different beat this time. 

  
  


“How do we know it’s not a thief?” 

  
  


Chan shushed Minho as he pushed the door open, closing it quietly behind as he helped Minho down, settling him into one of the dusty chairs that settled by an even dustier table. 

  
  


“Be careful...” Minho warned as he pressed his hand back down to his wound, Chan sliding his knife from his pocket. 

  
  


Chan looked back to Minho once before making his way around the scattered papers at the ground, ears open for whoever was tapping. 

  
  


He’d say hello, but for the off chance that whoever made the tapping wasn’t alive, he’d stay cautious and quiet. 

  
  


Tapping. 

  
  


Chan glanced towards the door to the employees only room behind the bar of the abandoned cafe. He wondered if the tapping had been for them or not. Part of him was getting the vibe that it wasn’t for them despite the conversation he’d had on the radio with whoever controlled the city just days ago. 

  
  


Tapping. Maybe some humming too. 

  
  


Chan took a deep breath as he pushed the employee door, noticing just how dark it was inside until he got a face full of flashlight, nearly sending him backwards as he brought his arm to shield his face. 

  
  


“Cool, you’re alive!” A voice called out, the flashlight lowering and guiding to light up the face of a much younger man than expected. 

  
  


Chan let his arm fall to his side in relief, sliding his knife into his pocket, “are you the one from the radio?”

  
  


The boy blinked, a thin lined smile on his mouth, “nope!”

  
  


Chan frowned, leaving the doorway to give Minho a look that told them they were safe before the boy followed out behind, placing a crowbar onto the counter, “so if you didn’t radio us, why the tapping?”

  
  


“I’m not the one who talked to you, but I am the one who was supposed to meet you. If you’re the right person that is.”

  
  


Chan huffed, crossing the cafe back to Minho, who seemed both pained and annoyed. 

  
  


“Check him.” Chan gave the younger man a look before he followed, crouching down like he already knew what to look for. Minho looked annoyed that the stranger was so close to him, but he’d have to deal with that. 

  
  


“Chan, then? You’re sure it’s not a bite?” The younger man went for Minho’s shirt, Minho pulling his jacket around himself defensively. 

  
  


Chan gave Minho a look before focusing back on the man at the floor, “no. It’s from a knife.”

  
  


“I’m gonna have to see it or no deal.” 

  
  


“Fuck you—“ Minho growled before getting a look at Chan’s face, which must’ve been serious enough for him to falter. 

  
  


“Show him,” Chan pleaded, watching his boyfriend in worry before Minho finally pulled his shirt up, the nasty wound bleeding through yet another bandage. 

  
  


“I’m Jisung, by the way," the younger man whispered, peeling back the bandage slowly with Minho hissing in response. 

  
  


“Jisung. Are you the doctor?” Chan asked, crossing his arms. 

  
  


“Nah, I’m just a guide,” Jisung responded, examining Minho’s wound before pressing the bandage back down, “anyways, I’m not your doctor, but that looks really nasty.”

  
  


“No shit.” Minho was clearly not interested in making friends or staying long. That had been the plan anyways. Get supplies and help and then leave again. 

  
  


“I’ll take you to them. They’re two blocks from here but we have to go through fifth street.” Jisung shot Chan a worried look, “can he walk?”

  
  


“Yeah.” Chan and Minho both responded. 

  
  


“Good, you’re going to need both your hands free for that street.” Jisung grabbed his crowbar, “on my way here there was a small huddle of the dead, so be prepared for anything.”

  
  


“How did you avoid them?” Minho asked as Chan helped him to stand again. 

  
  


“I was alone. It was easy.” 

  
  


Chan took a deep breath, “can we hurry?”

  
  


Jisung shot him a worried look, “how long has he had that wound?”

  
  


“It’s been four days.” Minho admitted, pulling himself upright, sweat starting to bead at his forehead again. 

  
  


“You’re sure you can make it?” 

  
  


“Just lead the way.” Chan shot back, taking Minho’s bag and slinging it around his arm again before handing Minho a knife of his own. 

  
  


The blocks were quiet. The city was as quiet as Chan figured. With how the news broke about the end of the world, everyone flooded rural areas because of what their favorite apocalypse shows taught them. And now? They were all probably dead. Chan was lucky he’d never watched those silly monster shows. That’s probably what had kept him alive. 

  
  


“You okay?” Chan asked, eyeing Minho as they followed Jisung who was further ahead of them. 

  
  


Minho nodded, brows knit and jaw tight. 

  
  


“Do you want us to stop?”

  
  


“We don’t have time to stop, Chan.” 

  
  


Chan frowned, hooking an arm around Minho’s waist to help steady him, “we can.”

  
  


“No, it’s okay. Chan, I really need to get this stitched,” Minho whispered before halting behind Jisung. 

  
  


“Dead?”

  
  


Jisung exhaled, “yeah, just stay close behind me.”

  
  


Chan’s eyes scanned Jisung as his hand moved to his back pocket, a much more sinister blade revealing itself. Chan almost wished he’d had a knife that large. 

  
  


“How many?” Minho asked, worry laced in his voice as he held his hand against his wound. Chan was worried about him. Of course he was. He’d been dealing with that gash for days. 

  
  


“Two. There were five earlier but they probably wandered. We can definitely take them real quick.”

  
  


“Yeah, I’m down,” Chan answered immediately, keeping Minho in front of him as he pulled his hunting knife from his own pocket, holding the handle tightly. 

  
  


Two. Two was never that bad. Not when you had a partner to take them down. They were also a lot slower than the ones out in the woods. These guys hadn’t had food in months probably. The amount of people who ventured into the city must’ve been low, either that or they were just too smart to get caught. 

  
  


Taking them down was easy. Chan kept his eye on Minho as he grabbed one of the weak monsters from behind, sliding his knife into the lower part of the skull. He noticed Jisung did the same, both creatures dropping without the slightest growl or noise. 

  
  


Simple. The city was so simple. 

  
  


Chan wished they’d just stay here. 

  
  


He really did. 

  
  


“Chan.”

  
  


Chan turned, wiping his knife on his pants as he got a glimpse of Minho hitting the window pane to the shop they’d passed, hand shaky at the glass. 

  
  


He wasn’t doing well. 

  
  


“Shit.” Chan shoved his knife into his pocket before quickly scooping the man into his arms, pulling his shirt up to see the blood that had started to run more profusely again. 

  
  


“Jesus, four days?” Jisung visibly grimaced, his knife in hand as he waved Chan along, “let’s hurry then. If those other three are close by we need to be quiet. He’s in no condition to walk.”

  
  


Luckily, under whatever god, they managed to get to the safe house smoothly. Chan only saw one more lost soul who was stuck in an overturned vehicle, soft groans leaving her mouth. She was young. Small. Chan figured she must’ve been traveling alone based on the small bag that was hanging from her half decomposed back. Maybe she’d gotten spooked in the city and crashed. 

  
  


Chan didn’t know why he wanted to give these things backstories. Maybe it was because he knew they were once alive. They just wanted a future. They weren’t monsters. But chan wasn’t sure what to call them. Zombies felt cruel. Too comedic. It wouldn’t be right to call them that. 

  
  


“Chan.” 

  
  


“Yeah?” His eyes met Minho’s, noticing just how shaky they were, “are you okay?”

  
  


“I feel really nauseous...”

  
  


Chan inhaled sharply, “Jisung is filling the doctor in on us. He said it’s protocol—“

  
  


“You know why.”

  
  


“Later, not now.” Chan spoke sharply, running a hand through Minho’s hair as the boarded door swung open, a man who was still younger than himself but older than the guide stepping out. 

  
  


He was covered from head to toe in tattoos. He must’ve been a bodyguard or something based on his attire. He wore a padded black vest and had both arms exposed, muscles barely hidden under ink. He looked really strong. A little intimidating. 

  
  


“I’m Changbin,” he announced as he crossed the abandoned lobby, holding his hand out to Chan. 

  
  


Oh? This man had a stethoscope around his neck. 

  
  


“Chan.” 

  
  


His handshake was firm yet warm. 

  
  


“I’m the doctor on this side of the city.”

  
  


He didn’t expect that. But Chan had learned not to judge a book by its cover after what had happened to them in the past. The nicest looking people were usually the cruelest. And the scariest looking seemed the most useful. 

  
  


“You don’t mind me taking your temp, right?” 

  
  


Chan gave Minho a look, Minho nodding immediately. He could have had a fever by now. Especially after four days. 

  
  


“I’m fine. I just want to patch up as soon as possible,” Minho sighed, moving hair from his forehead as Changbin held out a temple thermometer. 

  
  


“You don’t have to move your hair,” Changbin added with a laugh as he held down the button, the thermometer beeping after a few seconds. 

  
  


“What’s it say?” Chan asked worriedly as Minho settled back against the dusty chair. 

  
  


“Nothing serious, but he does have a slight fever.” Changbin looked at Minho a little too long, “but it’s not bad enough to turn you away, so let’s get that wound looked at.”

  
  


Chan kept his eyes on Changbin’s handiwork as Minho’s fingers clutched Chan’s own tightly. He was okay. The wound was deeper than they’d thought, but he was fine. Chan had thankfully done enough to keep it from becoming infected. 

  
  


“Four days, huh?” Changbin asked as he cut the final stitch, glasses perched at his nose. 

  
  


“Yeah, we had alcohol and a medical kit. That’s why I contacted here when I heard the broadcast... He wouldn’t have lasted long, right?”

  
  


Changbin watched Minho closely before directing his eyes to Chan, “maybe. He seems really stable considering.”

  
  


“Do you have gas?” Minho interjected, Chan sighing in disbelief. Minho wanted to get out as soon as they could. 

  
  


“This kid named Seungmin controls the gas here. I can ask him to give you guys some as a favor, you don’t have anything valuable to trade for it I’m assuming?”

  
  


Chan squeezed Minho’s hand as the younger man glared at Changbin, obvious irritation peaking at the corner of his mouth. 

  
  


“That would be great. And yeah, we don’t have much at all.” Chan ruffled Minho’s hair, “do you have a shower or anything that we could maybe clean up in? We haven’t had a proper one in...weeks?”

  
  


Minho drew a breath, “we should get on the road—“

  
  


“You should rest, I have some painkillers for you. The last thing you should be doing is moving around again so soon. And yeah, we have a shower you can use here, you’re also welcome to join my husband and I for dinner.”

  
  


“Chan—“

  
  


Chan for once disagreed with Minho, “that would be great, thank you. We haven’t eaten properly in awhile.”

  
  


“What have you guys been eating?”

  
  


“Honestly,” Chan laughed, glancing at Minho before giving Changbin a nod, “just canned stuff. Rarely do we eat anything else anymore. It’s too cold to start fires and those things are... they’re just too dangerous in the winter.”

  
  


Changbin looked worried, “well now you have to come by and get some food. Hyunjin used to work in a restaurant before all of this, so he’s a master chef,”

  
  


“We’d love that!”

  
  


Minho didn’t seem enthused. Of course he didn’t. 

  
  


••••••

  
  


“Why did you agree to this?” Minho asked as he sat on the side of the bathtub, Chan washing the dirt and dried blood from his hair. 

  
  


“It’s comforting... plus it’s so cold, Minho.”

  
  


“It’s dangerous. We don’t know these people.”

  
  


“They don’t know us, either,” Chan added sharply as he ran his fingers along Minho’s scalp, “we’ll be fine. Everything will be okay.”

  
  


“You said we’d be in and out.”

  
  


“Things change—“

  
  


“I know you want to be around more people, but we can’t afford this, Chan.”

  
  


Chan sighed, “just let me wash your hair. It’s one night... we’ll leave tomorrow.”

  
  


Minho rolled his eyes. He didn’t believe Chan. Of course he didn’t. 

  
  


Maybe Minho was right though, Chan didn’t want to leave. They hadn’t found any sort of civilization in over a year. Now that they’d finally stumbled upon this city... they had something. Something that wasn’t highways and mountains. It was safer, right? 

  
  


“You can go.” Minho took the shower head from Chan’s grasp, standing and dropping his towel to the ground as he stepped into the tub, spraying the water along his legs. 

  
  


“Your stitches—“

  
  


“I’ll be careful.” Minho snapped, “can you just let me shower in peace?”

  
  


Chan rolled his eyes at that, getting up from his spot on the toilet seat to venture into the small guest room they’d been shown for the night. It was comfy and small, and functional. Chan missed rooms. 

  
  


The van had gotten so hard to live in. They were uncomfortable and sore every night. Chan wished Minho would just let them find a group...no, he wished he’d let them stay with people. That’s all Chan wanted. 

  
  


“I love you,” Minho sighed as he sat on the bed besides Chan, running the towel through his hair. He smelled so much better, and clean. He smelled clean. 

  
  


“I love you too.”

  
  


“You know we can’t stay, Chan.” Minho whispered as his fingers ran across Chan’s, “you have to grow up.”

  
  


Chan frowned at that, “Minho...”

  
  


“You should get your shower so you can meet them for dinner.”

  
  


“Just me?”

  
  


Minho shot him a sympathetic look, “I just want to rest.”

  
  


“Or we could go together and—“

  
  


Chan halted as Minho’s face fell, “Chan.”

  
  


“Okay.”

  
  


••••••

  
  


“So how long have you two been together?” Hyunjin had been really sweet. He was a genuinely kind soul. Chan could tell. 

  
  


And he was an amazing cook too. 

  
  


Dinner had been... Phenomenal. Hyunjin must have been a master chef before the world went to shit. The vegetables that Chan hadn’t tasted since the beginning went down so smoothly. The steak that Hyunjin had made up tasted so divine he could barely stand it. 

  
  


“The entire time,” Chan cleared his throat as he lay his fork down at his plate, “we started dating in university. Everything happened on my graduation day.”

  
  


“I’m so sorry—“ Changbin whispered lowly. 

  
  


“He’s all I had here, my family was in Australia so... we’ve stayed together the entire time.”

  
  


“Is he doing better?” Hyunjin asked, brushing long blonde hair behind his ear, 

  
  


“He’s... he’ll be okay. He just wants to leave again.”

  
  


Changbin gave Chan a worried look, “I’ll be honest, with a wound like that he really shouldn’t leave so soon.”

  
  


“He’s stubborn...”

  
  


“If his stitches break...” Changbin started before directing attention back to his meal, “I’d advise, as a doctor, to stay for a little longer. Leaving could just get you back in the same situation you were in when you arrived.”

  
  


Chan picked up his fork again, “I’ll talk to him. If it was up to me... we’d stay.”

  
  


“So then stay?” Hyunjin added, “we help people all the time that pass through. We won’t try anything if that’s what Minho is worried about—“

  
  


“It’s not that.” Chan took a deep breath, “it’s complicated.”

  
  


“Well, my advice is to stay put until he’s better. Let his fever die down and get some food and good sleep. I can’t imagine how bad the world has gotten.”

  
  


Chan glanced at Changbin, chewing at his steak in thought, “how long have you two been here?”

  
  


Changbin reached over the table to lock fingers with Hyunjin’s, “we met on the road. About two years ago now. We were doing what we thought was smart, going through farmlands... but it wasn’t smart. Because that’s what everyone else did.”

  
  


Chan nodded. That’s what he’d avoided. The farms. That’s how people got themselves killed. The farmlands were loaded with dead. 

  
  


“We really thought the city would be the worst... but the city is so large and they evacuated so well that... it’s so much safer. We run across a few strays but they’re usually so starved they can barely move.”

  
  


Chan frowned. He wanted to stay so badly. 

  
  


“We decided to stay when we found that clinic. Completely untouched and safe. And then we found this apartment building connected and picked a cozy spot. The guy across town helped get us water and some electricity and... everything kinda worked out.”

  
  


Chan nodded, “how many people are around the city?”

  
  


“The city is pretty big you know. You’re only a few blocks in.” Hyunjin smiled, “there are tons of people. And on the other side of the city there’s another doctor station set up with another couple. It’s functional. It works.”

  
  


Chan felt so content with that. 

  
  


“How do you handle hordes that roll in?”

  
  


“Radio. We just contact everyone and they get to high ground or lockdown until the horde passes.”

  
  


“The hordes never linger?”

  
  


“No point. There’s no food here.” Changbin added, “everyone here is smart. Nobody wanders around much and it’s safe.”

  
  


“How do you guys get food?”

  
  


“Despite the whole ‘farms are bad’ thing, we have a contact outside that helps with deliveries. We exchange gas and medical supplies for food.”

  
  


“And what if that falls through?”

  
  


Changbin laughed, “it’s safe. We’ve been dealing with that community for years. Somehow they made the farm thing work.”

  
  


“Crazy.”

  
  


“Entirely. But they always deliver. The system has worked for years and everyone’s happy enough.”

  
  


“Do people just... live here?” Chan asked, getting a soft laugh from Hyunjin. 

  
  


“Of course! This apartment and a few around here have families and people held up. Some of them leave with time but a lot stuck around.”

  
  


“How do you keep up with the supplies?”

  
  


“It’s a city. And like I said we have the farm thing going.”

  
  


“This feels so luxurious though...”

  
  


Hyunjin gave Changbin a look before directing his attention back to Chan, “we might get a little more than others. All of the community leaders do. The doctors, the service people... the ones who keep this place running of course get more than people who are just living here. But nobody is starving or mad. It’s kind of understandable that the people taking risks get a little more.”

  
  


Chan couldn’t fault that. 

  
  


“How is it out there?” Changbin asked, “I ask everyone who comes through. You two seem really strong. Well built to survive I guess.”

  
  


“We just travel.”

  
  


“For years? In the same vehicle?”

  
  


Chan had mentioned his dad's van earlier. 

  
  


“My dad bought a work van here when he was living here for a while, and he passed it down to me. It still runs and it’s not bad on gas.”

  
  


“That’s amazing. It’s like your dad blessed you or something,” Hyunjin laughed, “I think the only thing I had from my parents was a bracelet that snapped a few months ago.”

  
  


“I didn’t have anything,” Changbin added, though there was no panic or sadness laced with his words, “honestly had no idea the world was about to end.”

  
  


“I don’t think anyone saw it coming. Not like this. I expected a giant meteor shower or a flood. Not this.” Hyunjin sighed. 

  
  


Chan took a bite of the potatoes on his plate, “I just thought we’d all burn or something. Global warming.”

  
  


“I can’t even imagine how bad the summer is going to be this year. Last year we lost an entire building to the heat.”

  
  


Chan arched his brow at that. 

  
  


Hyunjin smacked Changbin’s arm, “context, Bin...”

  
  


“Ah. There was an electrical short that heated the building overnight. Most of the tenants didn’t wake up the next morning. And those who did got out of there.”

  
  


“Did you have to clean it out...?” Chan asked worriedly. 

  
  


“No, they’re all still there.” Changbin drew a breath, “we thought about going in and removing the dead but... the apartment is boarded and so secure that releasing anything that’s managed their way into the lobby would be suicide.”

  
  


“So there are just dozens of those things hanging out there?”

  
  


“That building was really populated...”

  
  


“Changbin, stop.” Hyunjin sounded agitated, “enough talk about the dead.”

  
  


“I’m just being honest with the guy,” Changbin watched Chan closely, “it’s safe here. I swear. That building had a faulty system we didn’t know about until our electrical guy checked it. His wife and him told us they'd fix wiring in the remaining buildings and everything’s been fine since. Plus this happened so long ago.”

  
  


“Thank you for telling me.” Chan took another bite. 

  
  


“Did you want me to save Minho some food? He should eat.” Hyunjin asked. 

  
  


Chan tensed, “yeah, you can. That would be nice.”

  
  


The rest of the night went nicely. Hyunjin and Changbin were so domestic... so friendly. Chan enjoyed their company a lot. In just a few hours they were cracking jokes. Like regular people. It felt so normal again. Chan hadn’t felt this kind of normalcy in so long. 

  
  


He didn’t want to leave. 

  
  


••••••

  
  


“You were gone for hours,” Minho complained. 

  
  


“I was having dinner. I told you to come.” Chan lay the pillow onto the bed, tearing the freshly laid top sheet from the corner to slide over himself, finding warmth against Minho’s back as he wrapped an arm around his waist securely, fingertips brushing along the new gauze covering his stitches. 

  
  


“It was long.” Minho sounded annoyed. Of course he did. 

  
  


“Did you think about what I told you?” Chan sighed, “about what Changbin and Hyunjin told me?”

  
  


“It doesn’t matter, Chan.”

  
  


“Yes, it does. We could stay here—“

  
  


“No, we can’t.”

  
  


“But it’s safe... Minho.”

  
  


Minho turned to face Chan, watching him with saddened eyes, “I’m sorry. You know we can’t do that.”

  
  


Chan wanted to retort, but the pain lingering in Minho’s dark eyes was enough to shut him up. 

  
  


Minho brought a hand to Chan’s cheek, running his fingers along Chan’s face calmly, “I love you. I’m sorry we can’t stay here. I really am, Chan.”

  
  


Chan took a deep breath before hooking his arm around Minho’s back as he let his free hand cup Minho’s hand that lay at his cheek before prying the fingers from his cheek to bring to his lips. 

  
  


“I know...” he pressed small pecks along Minho’s fingers, drawing a deep breath as he watched the man across from him. 

  
  


Minho fluttered his lashes, watching Chan so closely that he couldn’t resist rolling on top of Minho, grabbing at his jaw with his hand as the other secured a spot at his waist. 

  
  


Chan made sure he didn’t touch the gauze or stitches as he snuck his hand beneath Minho’s waistband, allowing his lips to linger along Minho’s before the younger man took the initiative to finally kiss him. 

  
  


He wished things were different for them. But they weren’t. And there wasn’t anything they could do to change it. 

  
  


Chan’s hand met Minho’s half hard cock as their lips danced comfortably. 

  
  


“I love you.” Chan heard the man whisper against his lips as Chan curled his fingers around Minho’s length, giving only the slightest tugs as he allowed the hand at Minho’s face to slip into his hair instead. 

  
  


“I love you too,” he managed before Minho’s blissful moans filled his mouth. 

  
  


Chan rolled his hips teasingly as he got his boyfriend off, Minho shuddering gently beneath him. Chan let out happy sighs of his own as Minho’s tongue filled his mouth. 

  
  


He couldn’t get enough of the man's taste. Chan pulled himself up, grabbing Minho’s pants and underwear to tug down and off of his legs, pushing the blankets off of them before pulling Minho’s legs around either side of him. 

  
  


They hadn’t had sex in awhile. Maybe too long. 

  
  


“Chan...” Minho watched him closely, fingers running along Chan’s thighs, “hurry.”

  
  


Chan obliged, knowing that saliva was the shittiest lube. But Minho was impatient. Chan remembered how long their foreplay would last before the world changed. Hours. Hours of build up and tension and love. Now everything had to be rushed. 

  
  


Minho winced as Chan forced two fingers inside of Minho, throwing his head back against the pillow with soft huffs. He was so tense. 

  
  


“I can get something—“

  
  


“No, just do it!” 

  
  


Chan drew a breath as he moved his fingers, curling them slightly as his other hand continued to pump Minho’s hardening cock. He would have loved to kiss the inside of Minho’s thighs, or rim him, or do anything to make things more romantic. 

  
  


But he was so impatient. 

  
  


“Chan!” Minho arched his back, brows knit in a mixture that must have been pain and pleasure as Chan pressed a third finger. 

  
  


Chan wished Minho would let him prep more. But they really didn’t have time. 

  
  


“Min...”

  
  


“Inside, Chan...” Minho’s breaths were already erratic, sweat pounding down his temple. 

  
  


It was always too soon, but Chan would listen to him. If he didn’t that would only break Minho’s heart. And he didn’t want to do that. 

  
  


“Okay,” Chan leaned down to take Minho’s lips before adjusting their position again, finally removing his own pants before settling between Minho’s thighs, smearing his precum the best he could down his own length. 

  
  


Minho watched him with expectant eyes, hand moving to wrap around his own cock as Chan finally pressed himself to Minho’s hole. 

  
  


Of course it was tight. Of course Minho’s body tensed at the pressure. Chan wasn’t necessarily large or anything, but he wasn’t small enough for this kind of prep. And Minho was so much smaller in general, they always needed to do more. 

  
  


But they didn’t have time. 

  
  


“C—Chan.” Minho’s breaths were heavy as Chan bottomed out, leaning into Minho to press small kisses to his mouth, “you can m-move.”

  
  


Chan nodded, nuzzling his nose against Minho’s perfectly sculpted one, bringing a hand to cup the man's jaw as their lips melted together. 

  
  


He was so tight, but with some movement and will, Chan was able to get himself moving at a reasonable pace. 

  
  


Minho’s lips were unfocused, and his nails had found their way into Chan’s thighs as he moved, every thrust causing Minho to whimper into Chan’s mouth and clench his muscles around Chan. It must have hurt. Minho’s noises were mixing between pained and pleased. Over and over. 

  
  


But they’d deal with it. They always did. 

  
  


Chan shifted slowly, stomach pressed against Minho’s hand that was moving at his own cock, seemingly desperate to get himself off. 

  
  


“Is this okay?” Chan whispered as he left Minho’s mouth, keeping the hand at Minho’s jaw firm as he rolled his hips more experimentally. 

  
  


“Yes...” Minho replied, voice soft and dripping full of honey despite the clear pain that lingered. 

  
  


He loved Minho. He really did. 

  
  


Minho never lasted long, Chan could feel the cum splash against his stomach as Minho came, his voice and sounds choppy as Chan moved inside of him. 

  
  


“Kiss me...” Minho begged through his orgasm, bringing a hand to Chan’s hair before their lips met again

  
  


The taste was incredible. Minho’s moans were incredible. He was so close. 

  
  


The sounds were so entrancing that it took Chan far too long to realize that Minho’s body had started to tremble far too much beneath him. And that Minho’s mouth was no longer really focused on Chan. 

  
  


Chan pulled out quickly, catching it before it was too late. He slid his shirt off hastily, glad that he’d kept it on before rolling and forcing it into Minho’s mouth, the younger man smacking him momentarily by reflex before Chan turned him onto his side. 

  
  


He wouldn’t panic. He hadn’t for months since the seizures had started. He’d stay calm. It would pass.

  
  


Chan watched Minho convulse on the bed. There wasn’t much else he could really do anyways. There was absolutely nothing Chan could do for him. This would pass. It always did. 

  
  


“I’m right here...” he whispered, wanting nothing more than to just hold him. But he knew that was the worst thing he could do. He’d have to wait it out. 

  
  


Minutes. Just a few minutes and Minho finally stilled. Chan moved towards him, running his fingers down the man's back with a heavy sigh before resting his hand into Minho’s hair, massaging his scalp the best he could. It always seemed to help him, anyways. 

  
  


“Are you okay?” 

  
  


Minho took a few more minutes to respond before pulling the cloth from his mouth. 

  
  


Blood. 

  
  


Minho whimpered at the sight before pulling himself up, immediately burying his face into Chan’s shoulder. 

  
  


“I’m sorry—“

  
  


“Don’t apologize for that.” Chan continued to run his fingers through Minho’s hair as he examined the shirt, body tensing at the amount of blood Minho had produced this time. 

  
  


“Chan, no... I’m so sorry.” Minho was shaky, the feeling of wetness at his shoulder causing Chan’s heart to pound. 

  
  


This was their normal. It had been for so long now. 

  
  


“It’s okay, I swear.”

  
  


It was never really okay. 

  
  


Chan stayed with Minho until he passed out, slipping from the bed once he knew Minho was safe before going to the bathroom to finish himself off. 

  
  


••••••

  
  


“So you’re really leaving?” Changbin asked, staying close to Chan as they turned the corner. 

  
  


It was so quiet in the city, and they’d only come across one of the dead so far. 

  
  


“He really wants to go.”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“It’s complicated. He has really bad issues with other people.”

  
  


Changbin sighed. “Well, if you ever change your minds we’ll be here. We could use more strong people anyways.”

  
  


“You’re so confident that we’re strong,” Chan laughed. 

  
  


“You’re both fit. I can tell. And you’ve managed to survive in a van for all these years... yeah, you’re strong.”

  
  


“Everyone who’s still alive is.”

  
  


Changbin offered Chan a weak smile before perking up at the gas station that was settled in such an odd area right in the middle of an intersection. 

  
  


“What a shitty layout,” Chan laughed. 

  
  


“Yeah whoever put this place together really didn’t know what they were doing,” Changbin reached the secure gate, smacking his palm against the metallic sheet, “Seungmin, I need some gas!”

  
  


“You always need gas.” A voice from behind spoke, startling Chan briefly before he turned. 

  
  


This kid looked really young too. 

  
  


“How much do you need?”

  
  


“Just get me four canisters.”

  
  


Chan blinked at that in shock, “four?”

  
  


“You have two hands, right?”

  
  


Chan was confused, “that’s a lot of gas—“

  
  


“Make it last.” 

  
  


“I—“

  
  


“Just take it,” Changbin laughed, “seriously. We have plenty.”

  
  


“How...?”

  
  


“Suppliers.”

  
  


They were too generous. Chan had been stealing gas from cars all this time. And the times they had met dealers they barely had anything worth trading for half a can. 

  
  


“Thank you.”

  
  


“No problem, I’ll get Jisung to help you take these back.”

  
  


“Oh?”

  
  


“I have to head over to the other clinic. There’s a woman there who’s struggling to give birth. It’s a mess.”

  
  


“Birth...?”

  
  


“Yeah, she’s been here for a while. People started to get comfy here and... it’s honestly the most normal thing we’ve experienced since this started.” Changbin gave Seungmin a slight nod before disappearing around the shop. 

  
  


Chan crossed his arms over his chest as the man beside him filled the tall canisters. 

  
  


They were so nice...

  
  


“How long have you been here?” Chan asked as the silence started to get to him. 

“I’ve been here since the start. I worked here.” Seungmin spoke, “when they evacuated the city and everything went to hell I just came here.”

  
  


“Your family?”

  
  


“I’ve been on my own for years. No family.”

  
  


“So you just... You came here?”

  
  


“Yeah. I mean I lived here too. So they kinda kicked me out of my home.”

  
  


“How’d you get back in?”

  
  


“Nobody was guarding the city after the first week. World went to shit and it was every man for themselves,” Seungmin handed Chan one of the cans as he filled it, “I’ve been here ever since.”

  
  


Chan nodded, the familiar face of the tour guide from the other day stealing his attention as he slipped around the corner of the store, leaning against the brick with a big happy grin. 

  
  


Chan couldn’t stop himself from smiling back. He wasn’t sure why he was. 

  
  


“How’s the boyfriend?” Jisung asked as he approached Chan, sliding the canister from Chan’s grasp to the ground. 

  
  


Chan drew a breath, “he’s okay.”

  
  


“So you’re not staying, huh?”

  
  


Chan cocked his head to the side with a small laugh, “why would we?”

  
  


“Why wouldn’t you?”

  
  


“Ah, Minho. He doesn’t want to.” 

  
  


Jisung bit his lip, nodding inquisitively, “why?”

  
  


Chan wanted to retort, but there honestly wasn’t much he could say at that point. 

  
  


“We’re better leaving.”

  
  


“That sucks.”

  
  


••••••

  
  


Four filled canisters and a trip to the van later and Chan was making his way back towards the apartment with Jisung at his side. He was good company. Really funny and good at keeping a conversation going. 

  
  


“So you’ve been with him this whole time, that’s incredible?” 

  
  


Chan nodded, hands deep in his pockets from the cold, “yeah.”

  
  


“That must’ve been scary. But nice. Having someone from the beginning with you.”

  
  


“Strenuous—“ 

  
  


Chan directed his attention to the sound of static in Jisung’s pocket. They must have given him a walkie since he was a guide around here. It made sense. 

  
  


“Yeah?” Jisung asked as he held the walkie close to his face, “what’s up?”

  
  


“Horde. Wherever you are, find somewhere to settle. They’re coming in fast.” Chan didn’t recognize the voice, but whoever this was sounded a little worried. Panicked?

  
  


Chan tensed up, eyes panning around wildly. A horde? Now?

  
  


“Gotcha. I’m with a visitor named Chan. We’ll be in one of the shops nearby. Call me when they pass.”

  
  


Jisung took Chan by the wrist, pulling him towards a shop across the street. A horde??? 

  
  


“I’m supposed to be leaving soon—“

  
  


“Not anymore. We have to stay here,” Jisung unlocked the gate easily before sliding the metal up, ushering Chan underneath before he followed behind. 

  
  


A grocery store maybe? A small pharmacy was attached. Just a little corner shop. Though stocked with some cans, it was mostly empty of medicine. No drugs in sight. 

  
  


“It might be awhile, there’s blankets in the back.” Jisung spoke as he locked the gate from the inside. Interesting. This must’ve been where Jisung locked up usually. 

  
  


“Do you live here or something?” It was a stupid question. 

  
  


Jisung laughed, “no, just a mini safe spot. Go get blankets.”

  
  


Chan took a moment to register before leaving the room towards the back, an employees only door that swung with ease. 

  
  


Oh. There were dozens of canned foods here. More than Chan had seen in years. They must have kept supply here. Maybe that’s why it was locked up? 

  
  


Chan’s gaze fell on the canned peaches. He hadn’t had peaches in years... were they even any good? Did it matter? 

  
  


“You find them?” Jisung asked, startling Chan briefly as he appeared from behind. 

  
  


“Ah, I was just—“

  
  


“You’re welcome to some food. You guys are leaving anyways, right? Just take some. We have plenty,” Jisung added as he grabbed some blankets from a shelf, dusting them off before giving Chan another bright smile. 

  
  


“Really?”

  
  


“Yeah nobody is gonna care,” Jisung snorted before heading back towards the shop. 

  
  


Chan took a deep breath as he turned back to the shelf. He might have to take Jisung up on that offer. 

  
  


••••••

  
  


“How long has it been?” Chan could hear the dead outside moving. This horde sounded huge. They were constant. They’d been constant for far too long. 

  
  


“Two hours,” Jisung sighed, “they just get bigger and bigger nowadays.”

  
  


“Minho probably has no idea...”

  
  


“Changbin probably told him,” Jisung whispered, “he’s really caring so chances are they took him in for the night.”

  
  


Chan shuddered at that, “I doubt Minho would be okay with that.”

  
  


Jisung gave Chan a look, “earlier before I got the call, you said your relationship was strenuous.”

  
  


“I didn’t say that—“

  
  


“So what’s so strenuous then?”

  
  


Chan drew a breath, “it’s not him.”

  
  


“If it’s too personal or invasive you can tell me. Just thought we could talk a little. We’re gonna be here awhile longer and I’m out of jokes.”

  
  


Chan sighed, cupping the can of peaches he’d nearly devoured, “it’s just complicated. He doesn’t want us to be around other people.”

  
  


“That’s very weird considering we’re at the end of the world and probably need to stay together.”

  
  


Chan laughed at that one, “he’s not good with others.”

  
  


“He was a little snappy but I’d be snappy too if I had that nasty gash for four days.”

  
  


“Yeah...”

  
  


“How’d it happen?”

  
  


“It was an accident.”

  
  


“An accident?”

  
  


Chan drew a breath, “yeah. We were out together getting some wood for a fire and he got attacked.”

  
  


Jisung listened intently, pulling his blanket up to his chin as he leaned against the shelf. 

  
  


“I accidentally cut him when I was swiping at the dead.”

  
  


“So you’re the one who cut him?”

  
  


“Yeah. I didn’t mean to.”

  
  


Jisung arched his brow, “that was pretty deep for an accident.”

  
  


“You’re kidding?” Chan sighed in defense, “it was dark and I heard him scream. I got worried and—“

  
  


“Woah, calm down!” Jisung laughed, “it just seems wild to me. I’m not trying to attack you!”

  
  


Chan settled some, “sorry. I know how bad it looked.”

  
  


“You got him treated though. Good boyfriend.”

  
  


“Yeah... I guess.”

  
  


“So don’t take this the wrong way, but he’s going to get you killed.” 

  
  


Chan gave Jisung another look, one that was more hurt than anything else. 

  
  


“You guys realize we’re years into this and people are all we have, right?”

  
  


“You don’t know us—“

  
  


“You guys should stay. Seriously.”

  
  


“He won’t let me.”

  
  


Shit. 

  
  


“So you want to stay?” 

  
  


Chan let his head fall against the back of the shelf, “of course I want to stay.”

  
  


“Then stay?”

  
  


“We can’t.”

  
  


Jisung crossed his arms over the blanket, “you seem really nice. The world is only getting worse. Listen to your gut, Chan.” 

  
  


Chan looked towards the metal gate that had continuously rustled. 

  
  


“They’re growing and we’re dwindling. Just make the decision to take care of you two.”

  
  


“He’s so... stressful.” Chan didn’t mean that entirely. 

  
  


Jisung scooted back up, sliding the can from Chan’s hand, “too stressful?”

  
  


“I’ve stayed with him because we were together before all of this—“ what was Chan saying?! “He’s too fucking much and he just causes so much stress. We could have been safe all this time but everyday is a battle because of him.”

  
  


Where was this coming from? 

  
  


“I figured something was off about you two...”

  
  


“I really care about him but...”

  
  


“Do you love him?” 

  
  


Of course he did. He loved Minho so much. Too much to be looking at Jisung the way he was. 

  
  


“I don’t know anymore.”

  
  


Jisung moved, steadying himself over Chan’s lap so quickly that Chan couldn’t retort. No, more like he didn’t want to. 

  
  


“It’s been years, Chan.” 

  
  


Jisung’s hands ran under his shirt fast, grazing along the lines of his stomach as his big eyes watched Chan’s own. Maybe he was looking for a sign to stop. Chan guessed he wasn’t giving him any. 

  
  


Chan ran his hands up Jisung’s thighs, feeling for his hips, “yeah...”

  
  


“When’s the last time you two slept together?”

  
  


Chan tensed at that too, “last night... but he just—”

  
  


“But what?” Jisung asked as he tugged Chan’s shirt over his head. 

  
  


Chan watched Jisung closely as his own hands slipped beneath his shirt. He couldn’t tell Jisung. He couldn’t. 

  
  


“It’s nothing we... we do have sex.”

  
  


Jisung’s hands went for Chan’s pants, unbuckling him hastily, “is it not fulfilling?”

  
  


Chan arched his back as Jisung’s hand slipped into Chan’s pants, grabbing his cock. 

  
  


“It’s just...sex.” He couldn’t tell him. 

  
  


“Do you love him?”

  
  


Chan watched Jisung, “why are you asking?”

  
  


“Because if you say that you do I’m getting up. If you don’t, I’ll ride you right here.”

  
  


Ultimatum. 

  
  


“What if I’m unsure?”

  
  


“Maybe I’ll give you a handjob and leave it at that.”

  
  


What was Chan doing? 

  
  


“You don’t know me, Jisung.”

  
  


“And you don’t know me. But I can see how unhappy you are when you talk about him.”

  
  


Chan had a good reason for that. 

  
  


Chan moved his hands down to Jisung’s pants, “I don’t love him.”

  
  


Chan was lying. 

  
  


••••••

  
  


Chan hadn’t had proper sex in so long. Anytime he and Minho had tried there’d be a seizure that would develop either at the start or before Chan could cum. It was cruel to do this to Minho, but something about where he was made his head fuzz. Jisung made his head fuzz. 

  
  


“Ahh!” Jisung cried out as he rode Chan mercissely, hands clutching the shelf behind as Chan bucked his hips forwards to match. 

  
  


Chan shouldn’t be doing this. No matter how normal it felt, it was still wrong. He was so wrong for this. 

  
  


“Chan! Chan!” Jisung moved a hand to grab at Chan’s hair, mouth wide and body shaky as Chan took control, thrusting up into the man on top of him. 

  
  


This was so wrong. So why did it feel so good. 

  
  


Chan pressed his lips to Jisung’s neck, sucking at the soft flesh. He felt his body tensing with every movement. He’d cum any second at this rate. 

  
  


“Ch—!” Jisung couldn’t even finish his name as Chan came, holding himself deep inside of the smaller male as a choked cry escaped his lips. 

  
  


Chan hadn’t felt this good in... so fucking long. 

  
  


Jisung spasmed on top of him momentarily before rocking himself slowly, collapsing against Chan as he worked himself against him. He must’ve been so desperate to cum. 

  
  


Chan moved Jisung’s struggling hand from his cock to replace with his own before hooking his free hand to the back of Jisung’s head, lowering him backwards onto the disheveled blanket before riding his orgasm out inside of Jisung carefully. 

  
  


Jisung’s breaths were heaven, something he hadn’t been able to hear out of Minho in so long. Minho’s breaths didn’t bring him the same bliss anymore. Minho’s breaths didn’t bring him satisfaction. 

  
  


Minho...

  
  


“Chan!” Jisung shivered beneath, throwing his head back though Chan’s hand was there to catch him, mouth wide as lines of cum hit Chan’s stomach. 

  
  


Chan stilled himself before pulling out, working Jisung until he was dry, eyes focused on how Jisung’s body trembled.

  
  


He wished Minho was like this. But he wasn’t. Not anymore. 

  
  


Chan kept his hand under Jisung’s head as he lay himself on the floor beside Jisung, watching the younger man breathing through his ecstasy. He was really beautiful. Really interesting. But he wasn’t Minho. 

  
  


“Horde is still moving.” Jisung whispered as Chan brushed his fingers across Jisung’s forehead. 

  
  


“Yeah...”

  
  


Jisung watched Chan closely before his fingers ran across Chan’s cheek, “yeah...”

  
  


Kissing Jisung felt nice. Jisung was so different. He was so into his kisses. Jisung took so much initiative. But that just reminded him of how Minho used to be before—

  
  


Chan pulled up, watching Jisung closely. He shouldn’t have done this. But it felt so nice. 

  
  


“I haven’t slept with anyone in a long time,” Jisung whispered out, bringing a hand to his forehead to pull black strands of hair away, “I’m not usually so... I don’t know. I just wanted to fuck you. I’m sorry.”

  
  


“Don’t apologize,” Chan sighed as he sat himself upright. 

  
  


“You should leave him.”

  
  


Chan closed his eyes in thought. “I can’t.”

  
  


Jisung must’ve turned in the blankets, Chan could feel them being pulled from underneath him. 

  
  


“Why not?”

  
  


“I just can’t.”

  
  


Jisung grabbed his face, “you still love him, don’t you?”

  
  


Chan opened his eyes, regret across Jisung’s features. 

  
  


“Goddammit, Chan...”

  
  


“It’s so complicated, Jisung. More than you know.”

  
  


He couldn’t tell him. He wouldn’t. 

  
  


“Seungmin said they were almost out of the city. There might be stragglers but we should be fine to leave.” 

  
  


They hadn’t spoken much in the last hour. 

  
  


“I’m sorry. I swear it’s... there’s just so much to it and—“

  
  


“It’s fine. Just... don’t tell him we did this. I don’t want to be any more of a homewrecker than I already am.”

  
  


“Jisung.”

  
  


“I’m serious.” Jisung gave Chan a pained look, “I can’t... I don’t do this kind of stuff. Im not this kind of person.”

  
  


“I’m not either.”

  
  


Jisung bit his lip, “just don’t tell him. And if you do, please do it when you’re out of here.”

  
  


Chan nodded as Jisung unlocked the gate. 

  
  


It was so dark. 

  
  


“Is it safe?”

  
  


“You need to get back to your boyfriend.”

  
  


That kinda stung. But at the same time he really did need to get back to Minho. He’d been alone for far too long. 

  
  


“Okay.”

  
  


•••••

  
  


The journey back was silent. Jisung has steered them clear of any dead, and once they’d gotten into the apartments Jisung was gone without a word, leaving Chan alone with his guilt. 

  
  


Why did he do that? Why didn’t he regret it as much as he should? The worst part of everything was that he just wanted to go grab Jisung and kiss him again. He wanted to do it again. He’d do it again over and over. 

  
  


But he needed to get to Minho. 

  
  


Chan reached the right floor fairly fast through the elevator, trying to pull himself together. He needed to be calm for Minho. Minho picked up on things so quickly. He’d know something was wrong if Chan went in there the way he was right now. 

  
  


So he took a few deep breaths and reached the door, unlocking it. Minho must’ve fallen asleep. It was quiet and dark. 

  
  


“Min?” Chan decidedly called out before heading towards the bedroom, flicking the light on. 

  
  


He wasn’t there. Chan took a deep breath. 

  
  


“Ah, Changbin and Hyunjin...” Chan sighed in memory that Jisung mentioned Changbin would have probably looked after him. 

  
  


That’s probably where he was. 

  
  


Chan raked his fingers through his hair, turning the light off and making his way back towards the front door. 

  
  


But then he saw it. In the corner of his eye. 

  
  


Chan halted in the hall, turning to the bathroom where drops of blood rest at the entrance. 

  
  


Maybe he had another seizure?! 

  
  


Chan opened the door, frantic as he saw the tub empty as he turned the light on. 

  
  


But the sink? There was blood there. It wasn’t too bad, really. But it was bad enough to have Chan worrying. 

  
  


Chan turned the light out, rushing out the door to the apartment Changbin and Hyunjin owned. 

  
  


He hoped Minho was okay. He hoped he hadn’t had any other attacks while he was with them. God, he hoped not. 

Chan knocked at the door, biting his lip in worry. 

  
  


No answer. 

  
  


He knocked again, “Changbin?”

  
  


No answer. Maybe they were sleeping? 

  
  


Chan reached for the handle. The door was unlocked. 

  
  


He took a deep breath as he pushed the door open. All of the lights were still on. Maybe they took the luxury thing too far? Did they just leave them on all the time?

  
  


Chan closed the door behind, walking towards the hall before the sound he hated had him stopping dead in his tracks. 

  
  


Worst case scenario. 

  
  


Chan took a deep breath, tears welling in his eyes with fear as he turned to the kitchen, eyes lingering to the blood that was splashed across the tiles as he got closer. 

  
  


“Fuck... fuck—“ Chan covered his mouth as his eyes met the sight. 

  
  


He knew it was possible. But he didn’t think it would happen. Not again. Not so soon. Not out of nowhere. 

  
  


Changbin was laying in that puddle of blood, eyes wide open and void of life. He had a knife wound to his throat and his gaze was glued to the place Chan was desperately trying to keep his gaze from. 

  
  


Minho. 

  
  


“Fuck,” Chan said aloud as he stepped over Changbin’s corpse, lowering himself to the man who was hunched over the blonde chef who lay at the ground. 

  
  


Chan was about to reach out until he heard the horrible sound of struggling breaths from Hyunjin. Chan panicked internally, meeting Hyunjin’s terrified gaze. 

  
  


He was still alive. 

  
  


“Minho, what the fuck did you do...”

  
  


Minho pulled up slowly, his blue fuzzy sweater stained with blood as he turned slowly. His mouth was caked in blood. 

  
  


He somehow still looked so innocent and small. And that was always the worst part. 

  
  


Chan’s lip quivered as Hyunjin’s agonal breaths filled his ears, Minho’s expression faltering entirely as he saw Chan. 

  
  


“Chan...”

  
  


Chan shook his head as Minho inched forward, he couldn’t help but pull Minho to his chest, eyes finally meeting what Minho had done. 

  
  


Hyunjin’s stomach was torn apart, intestines hanging out and half eaten, his lower ribs on display. 

  
  


Chan wanted to vomit. But he couldn’t. Not here. Not now. 

  
  


He let his tears fall as he ran his hand through Minho’s hair, Hyunjin watching him in agony. 

  
  


“I’m sorry...” Chan whispered to the unfocused blond man, “I’m so sorry.”

  
  


Chan let Minho cry against him, the feeling of Hyunjin’s blood soaking against his own sweater. It was too much. 

  
  


But this wasn’t new. This had happened many times. This always happened. 

  
  


Chan reached into his pocket to pull out his knife, holding it tight in his grasp. 

  
  


“I’m so fucking sorry...” he sobbed before positioning the knife above Hyunjin’s forehead before forcing the blade down, allowing the knife sit in place before sliding it back into his pocket. 

  
  


Chan listened to the breathing for seconds more until it ceased. Hyunjin didn’t deserve this. Changbin hadn’t either. God... did Changbin have to watch?!

  
  


“Did you kill him, Minho?!” Chan pulled away from his shaky boyfriend, crawling over to where Changbin lay, feeling the back of his head until he found a deep wound. 

  
  


“I don’t... I didn’t leave him—“

  
  


Minho was choking up, shaking in place. Chan cursed to himself before making his way back to Minho, grabbing his face in his hands. 

  
  


Maybe Minho thought that Chan was going to hurt him by the way he sobbed and flinched back, but Chan would never hurt him. He couldn’t. 

  
  


“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.”

  
  


“Minho...”

  
  


“They made me come here because you were gone. I—they said I could stay there and wait for you. I didn’t—I.”

  
  


Chan held him tight to his chest again, shushing him as he pet his hair again. 

  
  


They had to leave. 

  
  


“We can go... let’s go, okay?” Chan whispered as he helped Minho off the floor. 

  
  


“I’m sorry, Chan. I’m so sorry.” Minho was hiccuping through every word. 

  
  


“Stop apologizing, we need to go, okay?”

  
  


“You wanted to stay didn’t you? You liked them... you really wanted to stay here and I ruin it every time and—“ Chan cupped his hand over Minho’s mouth, holding back the rest of his tears as he watched his shaky boyfriend. 

  
  


“Please, let’s go...”

  
  


Getting Minho out the door and into the elevator was challenging. He wanted to badly go back to properly put Changbin and Hyunjin to rest. But he didn’t have time. He needed to get them out of there. 

  
  


“Minho stay with me, okay?” Chan whispered as he glanced back, Minho still shaking despite Chan piling a large winter coat from Hyunjin’s closet over him. 

  
  


“Chan I’m so...”

  
  


“Minho, not right now. Please.” Chan held out his hand, “we have gas and I have cans from the store in my bag, we can leave. We can go like we always do and—“

  
  


“I can’t keep doing this, you’re so miserable.” Minho whispered. 

  
  


Chan’s heart hurt. 

  
  


“Baby, I just want to leave. I want to leave with you. Please?”

  
  


Minho started forwards before halting again. 

  
  


“Min?”

  
  


He collapsed, Chan not making it in time to catch the poor boys head as he smacked the ground. Chan hissed as Minho started to convulse in Chan’s arms. 

  
  


“Fucking not right now, Minho!” Chan whined as blood started to fill Minho’s mouth. He didn’t have anything to clear the blood right now. He couldn’t wait for him. He had to go. 

  
  


“Chan?”

  
  


Chan turned slowly, cursing under his breath as Jisung stood behind him, eyes wide. 

  
  


“Chan what’s going on, I heard yelling and then...”

  
  


“It’s nothing, Jisung. It’s...”

  
  


Jisung could tell. Chan saw the look in his eyes. He could see how Jisung’s expression switched from concern to rage. 

  
  


“Chan...”

  
  


“Shit, can you just help me, please?!” Chan pleaded, trying his best to get Minho upright. 

  
  


“Moving someone seizing is—“

  
  


“Help me or go!” Chan yelled back. He didn’t mean to. But he was agitated. And he was terrified. And he just wanted to get Minho out of there. 

  
  


Jisung took a moment before grabbing the other side of Minho, trying his best to hold him upright with Chan, “how long have you known?”

  
  


“Just help me...” Chan whispered back as he dragged Minho the best he could. 

  
  


He convulsed the whole way, blood somehow making its way onto both men as they lay Minho into the open back of the van, Chan shoving their bags beside him before shutting the doors. 

  
  


He could feel the daggers on him. But he couldn’t focus on them. He couldn’t. 

  
  


“Chan.”

  
  


“Jisung, please...”

  
  


“What happened? When did he get bit?”

  
  


Chan smacked the back of his head against the van in frustration. 

  
  


“Chan what the fuck—“

  
  


“I have to leave. We have to go. I’m sorry. I have to—“

  
  


“You’re leaving with that thing?”

  
  


“My boyfriend.” He snapped back, “Jisung it’s still—“

  
  


“Maybe so, but then he's not himself other times, right?” Jisung interjected, brows furrowing. 

  
  


“You don’t get it.”

  
  


“I’m calling Changbin... I’m not letting you leave with—“

  
  


“He killed him,” Chan blurted. 

  
  


Jisung’s face stilled. 

  
  


“I... I’m sorry I have to go.” Chan rushed to the door, crawling into the driver's seat as fast as he could. 

  
  


Chan turned the car on, stress piling as he checked the back camera for Jisung. 

  
  


“What are you—“ Chan started as the door opened, Jisung crawling beside him in the passenger's seat. 

  
  


“Just go.”

  
  


“Get out—“

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Jisung, I don’t have time for this. I have to leave with him. I have to keep him safe—“

  
  


“Then I’ll keep you safe.”

  
  


“You’re not helping me. You’re not the help you think you are—“

  
  


“Why not?”

  
  


“He would never hurt me. You... he would hurt you.”

  
  


“I’m not leaving.”

  
  


“Don’t they need you—“

  
  


“Just drive, Chan.”

  
  


“Fuck...” Chan glanced back, Minho calming down and stilling after a few minutes. He seemed to be unconscious. Which was good. 

  
  


“I’m staying.”

  
  


Chan had so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t have time. He needed to get away from this place. The place they’d tainted. 

  
  


He couldn’t blame Minho. He wouldn’t. 

  
  


•••••

  
  


“How long have you known?” 

  
  


Chan sighed, giving Jisung a saddened look before he looked back at Minho who was still sleeping in the back. He wished he’d put the seat up for him to lay in instead of the ground, but that orange tattered blanket was there for him. And the roads weren’t bumpy. He was okay for now. 

  
  


“Chan, why did you hide his bite from them?”

  
  


“He was bit years ago.”

  
  


Jisung blinked, “what?”

  
  


“He got bit a month in.”

  
  


“A month in—it’s been four years?”

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


“For... you’re telling me that you’ve been dealing with this for four years?!”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“He’s been like this for that long...? And you haven’t killed him?!”

  
  


“Jisung.”

  
  


“No, are you out of your mind?! You’ve let this poor man suffer for that long?!”

  
  


“Please stop...”

  
  


“How many people has he... My god.” Jisung was wide mouthed, staring right at Chan with pained eyes, “this is normal for you two, isn’t it?”

  
  


“Stop.”

  
  


“Sleeping with me must’ve been a fucking relief, huh? Because you can’t really sleep with him, can you? He seizes every time doesn’t he?”

  
  


“Jisung, can you please shut up before he hears you!?”

  
  


“Doesn’t he deserve that? What are you planning on saying to him about me? Do you always go around sleeping with random guys you meet—“

  
  


“Please, please stop.”

  
  


“I’m just asking, because you are so fucked in the head for this.”

  
  


“I love him.”

  
  


“So you cheated on him?”

  
  


“I like you,” Chan whispered. “I didn’t... I never do what I did with you. It’s been a year since we’ve seen other people. A year of keeping to ourselves and—“

  
  


“I made myself available.” Jisung laughed bitterly, “Jesus Christ...”

  
  


“I’m sorry. I know we just met but... it was a relief, okay? It was nice to just... not have to worry about someone seizing and spitting up blood all over me. It was so... Normal.”

  
  


“Jesus... you’re so miserable, aren’t you? Why haven’t you... what are you doing?”

  
  


“I’ve been with him since before this. Before the world did this. He’s... he’s my family. I can’t just leave him. I can’t lose him.”

  
  


“He’s suffering too, isn’t he? I heard him before I got to you, you know? I heard the yelling and I heard him say that you were miserable.”

  
  


“Jisung.”

  
  


“You have to kill him, Chan. If not for your sake and everyone else’s, then for him. He’s not alive. You know that.”

  
  


“Yes he is. Jisung, just because the strain he has doesn’t make him a brainless corpse doesn’t mean he’s not alive!” Chan snapped. 

  
  


“Is he alive if he can’t eat food and eats all your friends? Oh, my bad. My friends?”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” Chan whispered bluntly as he noticed Minho stir in the back. 

  
  


Jisung took a deep breath as he looked back before staring at chan again, “how’d it happen?”

  
  


Chan kept driving, leaning on his palm as his other hand steered, “we were in a small group of friends from school. I graduated with them.”

  
  


“High school or?”

  
  


“College,” Chan whispered. 

  
  


Jisung nodded, “I was in my first year. College when this happened.”

  
  


Chan watched the road, “we held up together well. They were a couple too. We just stuck together like glue. It was good. For a month we were doing so well.”

  
  


“Ambushed?”

  
  


“On a run for food there was one of those things hiding on a lower shelf. Minho walked by and it grabbed him and tore his ankle apart.”

  
  


Jisung winced, glancing back at Minho. 

  
  


“There’s a bad scar there. He panicked. I panicked.”

  
  


“Why do you call them things?”

  
  


“Zombies feels wrong.”

  
  


Jisung sighed, “you hid the bite, didn’t you?”

  
  


“Yeah... we went back and Minho wanted to tell them but I told him no. I wanted to spend our time together. I even took him out to...” Chan trailed off with a deep sigh of his own, “I planned on killing him. I was going to do it far away from the campsite.”

  
  


“Why didn’t you?”

  
  


“He never turned.”

  
  


“Well yeah, he got the other strain—“

  
  


“We didn’t know that was a possibility at the time. We were a month in... and he was fine. He was fine for weeks after the bite. We told our friends he’d gotten stuck on a fence instead. That he hurt himself and everything seemed like it would be fine.”

  
  


“But?”

  
  


“It wasn't fine. One night I woke up and Minho was next to me coated in blood. I didn’t know what had happened but... he told me immediately.” 

  
  


“He killed them, didn’t he?”

  
  


Chan nodded, “he didn’t mean to. He didn’t... he was terrified.”

  
  


“Why didn’t you kill him?”

  
  


“Because he was my Minho. And he was all I had left.”

  
  


“Chan...”

  
  


“He’s never once tried to hurt me, Jisung.”

  
  


Jisung looked at Chan with solemn eyes, “we can go back to the city.”

  
  


“I can’t. Not after what happened.”

  
  


“We can talk to Hyunjin—“

  
  


Chan sniffled, “he killed both of them, Jisung.”

  
  


“Jesus...” 

  
  


“He was... he didn’t mean to.”

  
  


“We can still turn around. Chan, just... we can go back.”

  
  


“I can’t.”

  
  


“Hasn’t he suffered enough too? I’ve seen this before. It’s happened before. Before I got to the city I was with another group. This happened to someone’s daughter. She ended up killing her mother and they kept this little girl alive. Suffering.”

  
  


“Stop.”

  
  


“They’re not really alive just because they have a pulse, Chan.”

  
  


“I love him.”

  
  


“I’m sure he loves you too, but Chan... That little girl took her life the first moment she could. She was miserable. He’s miserable. More than you, probably.”

  
  


“I can’t.”

  
  


“You’ll never be able to be happy. Neither of you..

  
  


“I’m not killing him.”

  
  


“Then let me.”

  
  


Chan gave Jisung a pained look. 

  
  


“I’m serious, I’ll kill him for you.”

  
  


“Jisung I—I don’t know what to say.”

  
  


“You’re supposed to say no!”

  
  


Chan hadn’t noticed Minho wake up. He didn’t have any time to think as Minho lunged between them to grab the steering wheel. 

  
  


It was happening too fast. Chan could see gravel. And he could feel glass. He knew the van was rolling. And he knew that Minho had just fucked all of them with the noise. And part of him wasn’t even mad. 

  
  


Minho had flipped the fucking car down the road. Chan couldn’t tell how many times they’d flipped. But when the flipping ceased Chan was already out. Maybe the flipping hadn’t ceased. But it felt like it had. Everything was so still at least. 

  
  


•••••

  
  


Chan wasn’t sure how long he’d been out as he shook himself awake, head pounding and blood all over the steering wheel and splattered against the van. 

  
  


He didn’t know whose blood that was, considering he didn’t see Jisung nor Minho around him. He knew Minho wasn’t wearing any seatbelt. Was Jisung? He didn’t know. 

  
  


Chan glanced to the side, the window was busted. He could climb through. 

  
  


He felt for his knife that was secure in his pocket. Thank god it hadn’t fucking stabbed him. He pulled it out with ease, trying the belt once before sighing at the lack of release. He took the knife to the belt, cutting away at the material before coming free, wincing as he dropped. 

  
  


But thankfully he could move. 

  
  


Chan crawled out, eyes scanning around the dark. He didn’t hear much at all, but that was probably because his ears were ringing. 

  
  


“Hello?” Chan called out as he stood upright, running his fingers along the side of his face. He was bleeding. But not too badly. 

  
  


Somehow he wasn’t badly injured at all. 

  
  


“Chan?”

  
  


Chan took a deep breath as he turned to the side, eyes widening in shock as he saw Jisung crouched down, hands in his hair. 

  
  


But Jisung wasn’t the surprise. It was Minho. 

  
  


Chan steadied himself as he crouched down to the car, despair filling his chest as he finally got a look at the man who seemed to be in a compromising position based on the lack of movement. It was too dark to make much out. He could only really see Minho. 

  
  


“Chan...” Jisung looked at Chan sadly, “I tried to pull him out but the van is...”

  
  


The van must have caved in on its side. Somehow Minho had found himself tangled up somehow. Chan figured it must’ve been the sunroof, but he couldn’t tell. It was just too dark. 

  
  


“Help me move him... We have to—“

  
  


“Chan.” Chan directed his attention to Minho, “don’t pull me out. You can’t.”

  
  


“What do you—“

  
  


“I can’t even feel my legs.”

  
  


Chan felt defeated as he reached for Minho's face, which of course was littered with glass and blood. Chan could feel it. 

  
  


How was he even still alive?

  
  


Jisung pulled himself up, walking off to the side. Probably to give Chan a moment. But he didn’t want a moment. He wanted a lifetime. He needed to get Minho out of this. 

  
  


“How bad is it? How tangled—“

  
  


“If I wasn’t infected, I’d be dead.” Minho whispered, wincing as Chan touched his face. 

  
  


“I’ll get you out...”

  
  


“You can’t.” Minho shuddered, “I’m sorry for the van. I’m so sorry....”

  
  


“Stop apologizing, Min.”

  
  


“No... I messed up. I’m sorry. I should have just... when you left I should have killed myself. I should have just left. I shouldn’t have—“

  
  


“Please stop...” Chan whimpered, running his thumb along Minho’s cheek. He didn’t care if he was cutting his hand up with the glass in Minho’s face. He didn’t care at all. 

  
  


“Chan, it really stings.”

  
  


“Just give me some time and—“

  
  


“I heard everything.”

  
  


Chan drew a breath, “Minho.”

  
  


“I heard about that girl who was like me. And then what he said... he’s right, Chan.”

  
  


“What are you talking about?”

  
  


“I’m miserable. We’ve both been so miserable, haven’t we?”

  
  


“Stop. Tell me how to help you.”

  
  


Minho's lip quivered, and in return Chan's vision fogged. 

  
  


“Just kill me, Chan.”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Please?”

  
  


“I’m not doing that—“

  
  


“You cheated on me with him.”

  
  


Chan took a deep breath or regret, cupping Minho’s face with both hands, “Minho...”

  
  


“I don’t want you to be stuck with me anymore.”

  
  


“I’m not stuck—“

  
  


“Please?” 

  
  


Chan shook his head, leaning in to take Minho’s cold lips. He wasn’t killing him. He couldn’t. Chan sobbed against the weak lips, running his hands along his face shakily. He couldn’t do it. 

  
  


“Jisung would kill me...” Minho whispered against Chan’s lips. 

  
  


“Baby...” 

  
  


“Chan, I can’t move. I can’t do anything. I’m tired of this. I'm so tired of hurting people.”

  
  


“We can go... we can.”

  
  


“Go back to the city... you want it, right?”

  
  


Chan shook his head, tears stinging against his own cheeks. Maybe he was cut up too. He didn’t know. He didn’t know at all. 

  
  


“Minho, I just want you.”

  
  


“No you don’t.”

  
  


Chan sobbed bitterly as he pressed another kiss to Minho’s lips. He didn’t like that he didn’t kiss him back. He didn’t like that Minho was so cold. 

  
  


“Chan, can you please take that knife... and don’t mess up this time.”

  
  


Chan looked at Minho questionably, distraught and confused. 

  
  


“You swiped at me on purpose in the mountains, didn’t you?”

  
  


“Minho what are you—“

  
  


“Right? You cut me on purpose. You did it to find somewhere safe. You wanted somewhere to go.”

  
  


“Minho, I wouldn’t—“

  
  


“Stop lying to me... just this once.”

  
  


Chan shook his head, “Minho, I love you so much I just—“

  
  


“Please kill me, Chan.”

  
  


“No...”

  
  


“I’m begging you,” Minho whispered, his eyes so glossy. Despite the glass in his face he was still so beautiful. He was still Minho. He was...

  
  


“Don’t leave me here.”

  
  


Chan watched Minho closely, “I would never do that.”

  
  


Minho coughed, causing Chan’s muscles to tense. Of course there was more blood in his mouth. Of course he was dying. No—Minho was practically dead already. He’d been dead the moment he was bitten in a way. Just because he held a pulse and heartbeat... none of that meant that Minho was really alive. Jisung was right. 

  
  


“Chan, I’m sorry. Can you please do it?”

  
  


He didn’t want to. He didn’t want Minho to disappear. 

  
  


“Chan, it hurts so much...”

  
  


Yeah, they were both beyond unhappy. Minho had done everything he could to keep them distanced from people. But Chan wanted people. He needed other people. But Minho... He was just too dangerous. 

  
  


“I’m sorry.” Chan shuddered as he took his knife in hand, barely able to lift his arm as he watched Minho's expression soften up. It was almost as if Minho had relaxed with relief. And that hurt. 

  
  


“Thank you.”

  
  


Maybe his thank you hurt more than anything else. 

  
  


Chan rose the blade, cupping Minho’s jaw with one hand as he fixed the knife behind Minho’s head, the tip reaching its destination for Chan to force the blade into. 

  
  


Chan didn’t want to ever do this. He just wanted people. He wanted normalcy. He wanted to feel comfortable and safe. He thought they’d make it. Chan really thought that he and Minho could be safe someday. But clearly the world had other plans. 

  
  


Sick plans. 

  
  


Minho shuddered as Chan pressed their mouths together, and then he shook a bit. But that was probably just the response to Chan forcing his knife through the back of Minho’s head. 

  
  


It stung. It really stung. Chan didn’t think that it wouldn’t feel horrible, or that he’d be able to keep himself composed. It just really hurt. The moment Minho’s parted lips slipped from his own and the face in his hand relaxed, Chan couldn’t help but hold Minho as close as he could. 

  
  


He wasn’t sure if he could pry Minho out of this mess. Minho didn’t want to be left here, but what could chan actually do?

  
  


Chan left the knife in its place in Minho’s head a moment before sliding it out and throwing it to the side. He wrapped Minho as closely as possible to his chest, faint kisses into his hair. He wanted to pull him out. He just wanted to take him out of this mess. Chan wished he’d had more light to see the damage. He wished he knew just how badly things had ended. 

  
  


“Chan.”

  
  


Chan rose his head from the soft locks of brown hair that he’d miss kissing towards the direction of the soft voice. 

  
  


A dim light. 

  
  


“We need to go...” 

  
  


Chan squinted at the small light before reaching his hand for it, “Jisung... can I see that?”

  
  


Jisung took a deep breath, handing Chan the small flashlight that Chan recognized as being the same one they’d met him with. 

  
  


“I think there are a couple who heard the crash.”

  
  


“I can’t leave him, Jisung.”

  
  


“He’s dead—“ Jisung stopped himself, inching back again and turning around, arms crossed as a deep sigh left his lips. Chan appreciated that. That Jisung was letting Chan mourn. Even if the dead were approaching. 

  
  


Chan’s hand was shaky as he held Minho’s face in his hand, raising the light to see just how badly he had been injured. He was covered in glass and blood, eyes closed and lips parted peacefully. He looked so peaceful. 

  
  


“I’m so sorry...” Chan drew a breath as he flashed the light behind Minho, bile building in his throat as he saw just how badly Minho had been tangled. No living person would have survived being crushed and ripped apart like that. No one. 

  
  


Chan held himself together, flashing the light away and letting out a choked breath. 

  
  


There was no way Chan could pull him out. His legs were probably smashed to pieces, the way the car had sliced into him was probably all that was really holding Minho from snapping in half. 

  
  


If Chan tried to pull him out he’d only manage half of him. 

  
  


“We have to go... Chan, I’m sorry but we really have to go.” Jisung was grabbing Chan’s arm, “Chan!”

  
  


Chan let his hand slip from Minho's face, agony clutching to him as he rose from his place. 

  
  


He had to leave him. He hoped Minho would be mad at him if they met again in the afterlife. Chan had no choice. He had no choice but to leave Minho with the destroyed van. 

  
  


“Wait... the supplies—“ Chan choked out, not really noticing he was shaking from not only the distress but from the cold as well. 

  
  


“There’s a gas station we passed earlier, we don’t have time to get anything. We have to go.”

  
  


Chan whimpered out at that, sliding to the ground once more to grab Minho’s head in both hands, pressing one last kiss into his hair. 

  
  


He didn’t want to go. 

  
  


“Chan... we can’t fight in the dark.”

  
  


Chan rose shakily after a moment more, taking Jisung’s hand that was just as cut open as Minho’s face. 

  
  


How bad were they, he wondered? 

  
  


Chan didn’t know. 

  
  


•••••

  
  


Chan collapsed the moment they reached the inside of the dusty station. There was nothing there. Just empty shelves, a couple of dead bodies, and dust. 

  
  


Nothing felt real. His head spun. He felt like screaming. But he couldn’t manage. Chan couldn’t manage anything as soon as he felt the cool floor against his cheek. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted to disappear. 

  
  


•••••

  
  


Chan didn’t expect the next day to come. He didn’t expect to wake up to the sun in his face. 

  
  


He really thought he was going to die. The pain in his back and hips was more than he’d ever felt before. They were sore and covered in cuts and glass. But they were alive. Somehow Chan and Jisung had managed to walk away with nothing physically broken. 

  
  


But shit was his heart smashed into pieces. 

  
  


Chan couldn’t even welcome the sun. The sun just meant that time had passed. That what had happened wasn’t a nightmare. 

  
  


Minho had flipped their van. Minho was still at the van. The van was totaled. And Minho was dead. 

  
  


“Hey... drink this.”

  
  


Chan was startled by the water bottle that met his lips, confused as to how Jisung would even get water. 

  
  


“Where—“

  
  


“I went back earlier.”

  
  


Chan tensed, taking the water to his lips, though opening his mouth hurt. He must’ve cut his lip or something. 

  
  


“It was safe to leave you so I just... I wanted to get some things and see if I could patch you up.”

  
  


Chan gazed along Jisung’s form. He wasn’t too badly injured. He just looked physically exhausted and cut up. 

  
  


“Are you okay?”

  
  


Jisung gave Chan a worried glance, “seatbelts. I’m as good as I can be I guess.”

  
  


“How bad was the—“

  
  


“We’re not going back to see,” Jisung sighed, “we just need to go back to the city now—if that’s what you wanted.”

  
  


Chan’s gaze fell. He wanted to go back. To the city. To the van. 

  
  


“Was he still there?” Chan asked solemnly, “or did they—“

  
  


“The dead don’t touch the dead.” Jisung drew a breath, “he’s still there.”

  
  


“Did he look peaceful?” It was a stupid question. But he needed to know. 

  
  


Jisung drew a breath, “I guess so.”

  
  


“I want to... Jisung can we go back?”

  
  


Jisung winced, “I don’t know if you’d want to.”

  
  


“I do.”

  
  


Jisung gave Chan a worried look, “it’s really bad, Chan. I think it’s best if we just—“

  
  


“Please?”

  
  


“Chan, why?”

  
  


“I know that it’s bad... I know that. But I have to get him out of that van.”

  
  


Jisung tucked hair behind his ear, settling at the ground beside Chan, “you won’t be able to get all of him out...”

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


“We should go back to the city—“

  
  


“Jisung—“ Chan needed Minho. He needed to get him out of that destroyed van on the road. He couldn’t leave him there. 

  
  


“Seungmin can help get him out of there. We can take him back and you can bury him where we bury everyone who dies. There’s this garden that sits in the middle of the city. It’s really beautiful...”

  
  


Chan stayed silent, resting back against the shelves before the feeling of Jisung’s head sliding into his shoulder had him tensing slightly. 

  
  


“Nobody will be mad at you for what happened to... It wasn’t your fault.”

  
  


“He killed the doctor...”

  
  


“I know. We have another who might be pissed but... nobody will blame you. Not you.”

  
  


“Minho—“

  
  


“We’ve had people bring in infected before. Minho isn’t the first.”

  
  


Chan rested his head against Jisung’s. It was oddly comfortable. 

  
  


“I’m sorry for all of this...”

  
  


“Thank you. It’s really not your fault but... I feel really shitty for what we did the other day. You two really did love each other.”

  
  


Chan winced, “it’s complicated—“

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


Chan looked towards the sunlight, eyes squinting as the sun smacked his face. He wasn’t sure how he should have felt. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t relieved or excited for what was to come at all. He just felt numb. 

  
  


But part of him felt free. It was weird. He did love Minho. He always would. But this relief was so... it was fulfilling. 

  
  


Chan closed his eyes, he’d sleep a little longer. 

  
  


•••••

  
  


“A family?” Chan asked as he lay his head into the table, “I’m surprised people are still out there.”

  
  


“Not everywhere has it this good.” Jisung settled across from his, watching Chan closely as he lay his chin against the table, a sly smirk crossing his lips. 

  
  


“What?” Chan asked as he slipped his arms underneath of him, resting his chin against his bare arms. 

  
  


“Your cheeks are getting almost as plump as mine. It’s really cute.”

  
  


Chan scrunched his nose, burying his face into his arms with an embarrassed laugh. 

  
  


“You’re really cute.” Chan heard Jisung leave his spot at the table, his hand lifting Chan’s face by his chin to connect their lips. 

  
  


Two more years had passed and everything felt so different. In a weird way the world seemed to be healing itself. It rained almost every other day. The weather was reasonable per season. The birds had returned. Chan had sworn he’d never seen so many birds at once. The crops had gotten better too. 

  
  


For some reason everything seemed to be getting better. It was like the end of the world was a sham. Maybe it wasn’t ending, but just restarting. 

  
  


“Garden today?” Jisung asked as he slid into the space between the table and Chan’s lap, hooking his arms around his neck carefully, “we could help Jeongin with that greenhouse? And we could go see Minho?”

The garden. That’s where they buried their dead. And that’s where they planted flowers since they didn’t have headstones. It was... a really beautiful resting place. 

  
  


Chan pulled Jisung by his waist, locking their lips momentarily before nodding against him, “yeah... I’d like that.”

  
  


He missed Minho. Chan wasn’t sure there had been a single day that had passed without a memory of Minho buzzing in his head. Little things in the city always had his mind reconciling Minho. He’d remember how they used to go to small cafes for coffee. He’d see the lone fire hydrant in the middle of the city and remember the time the one as campus burst on their walk and soaked both of them. Random things. One of the many city tenants had a dog. Every time Chan saw that dog he’d remember how Minho was always more of a cat person and would make it known every time they saw a dog. 

  
  


Cats. Chan remembered breaking down at the sight of the first stray cat he’d see in years. It must’ve wandered from the forest. Chan remembered trying to approach it multiple times, and failing miserably. That is, until he realized that the cat had given birth to a litter of kittens right on the outskirts of the city. Close to the bridge that had brought him here. 

  
  


Chan watched the cats every day. Every day until the mother didn’t return. And Chan had no choice but to take them in. He was glad he did. Three little cats that Jisung happily allowed Chan to bring into their apartment despite his slight allergies. 

  
  


It was kind of perfect. Despite how horrible the last few years had been, he felt at peace with time. And even if the world never really recovered, he was content. 

  
  


Chan was finally happy. 

  
  


Things weren’t so complicated anymore. 

  
  


And he was finally free.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ✨ this fic was really fun and sad to write but it made me feel a lot better when I finished! I hope it was enjoyable and as always — I’m sorry I hurt Minho—AGAIN. 💛
> 
> Also: I don’t know why on earth I have to do this but please do not reupload my work under any circumstances. If you’d like to for any reason please message me first, do not reupload my work. If you see my works on wattpad please report them, I will never grant permission for wattpad.  
> [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/skzorcism)  
> [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/Str4y)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Nightmare](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28754763) by [stayatinyzen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stayatinyzen/pseuds/stayatinyzen)




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